Fair is Fowl, and Fowl is Fair
by salty-sarah
Summary: AU: Artemis probed too far and too deep, and awoke a sleeping dragon. What he didn't realise was how much he needed an awakening of his own. Artemis Fowl/Harry Potter crossover. Warnings for slash. Artemis/Harry.
1. Chapter 1

Fair is Fowl, and Fowl is Fair

Summary: Artemis probed too far and too deep, and awoke a sleeping dragon. What he didn't realise was how much he needed an awakening of his own. Artemis Fowl/Harry Potter crossover. Warnings for slash. Artemis/Harry.

**NOTE: WARNINGS FOR SLASH**

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To Cen, for being such a trendsetter. Lol.

The ages of the twins and Marilyn have been bumped up from canon.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor the Macbeth quote from which the title is taken

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Chapter One

Butler looked at the scene before him and didn't know where it had all gone wrong. Artemis had changed so much over the years that there were times he didn't recognise the boy who'd grown in the man before him now. He'd thought they'd gotten past this, all those years ago with Holly, but apparently not. Butlers never failed, but in this case, there might be any other adequate terminology describing his behaviour with the Fowl heir _but_ failure.

After that last adventure concerning the damned monkey, and re-seeing his younger self...Artemis had returned to any and every crime, even after seeing how it had torn his family apart and nearly destroyed his mother. Now, as the boy had passed his second decade, was just a year shy of the midway mark, in fact, Butler never thought he'd see the day that he'd be..._disappointed_ with his principal.

There was a human being lying on their floor.

Butler didn't really have a problem with that; what he had a problem with was his principal not having a problem with that. Artemis should have had a problem with that. Butler didn't have a conscience for himself, had lost one decades ago before he had even reached his teens. But he did have one concerning his principal.

"The logical conclusion," Artemis had announced two months to the day prior, "is that if there are such things as fairies, there would be other magical creatures in existence. It would only be congruent to assume that there must be a human equivalent, as well. I, myself-" here he had raised a hand and let a blue spark leap between his pointer and middle finger. The smirk that had graced the young man's lips had been truly frightening.

And so Artemis had done the impossible– yet again. He'd sought those magical types out and found them- or at least their English equivalents- up in Scotland. Apparently they'd had some sort of security detail to keep people unequipped with magic out of the property, which had left him out of the loop, as always. But they'd been intimidated by Artemis's intrusion, as he'd known they would be. Artemis had, after all, gone in with a keenly scientific mind, intent of discovery and dissection. And so the Ministry of- of Magic?- had sent someone after them. Someone that had been caught, someone that was lying bound before them now.

He had come, in the most cliché of ways, in the middle of night, cutting all the regular wires and lines, while ignorant of the power generator the Fowls owned beneath their property, as well as the independent power lines Artemis had powering his own security cameras. Butler had to acknowledge that the man had been good though, very good, having gotten past all the guards without actually killing any of them, merely incapacitating. The men hadn't seen him as he'd struck, silently and swiftly each time. Artemis and Butler had watched dispassionately through their cameras as the man made his way from the ground floor up to the mezzanine, where they'd been waiting. He'd been wearing some sort of cloak that the men couldn't seem to see through, but their personal cameras were able to trace fairy-grade camfoil and the system had been written by Artemis himself. There was nothing that could infiltrate them, nothing that could hide from them.

Like he'd previously observed, the man had made it all the way to the mezzanine, but that was only because Artemis had wanted to examine him, like some sort of specimen. Butler didn't like it, but he said nothing. He knew Artemis wouldn't listen to him anyway.

There had been a trap set, using both his own and fairy technology. The wizard hadn't stood a chance. But the moment he had come through the door-

There were DNA canons in place of their Bang and Olufsen speakers, just for tonight, set to stun. Artemis had been very particular, specifically tracing the magical pulses in the room that he knew would emanate from the wizard's body. The man was very, very good, having managed to dodge a whole six shots before having been taken down. Butler knew that he himself, given his _condition_, could have only hoped to dodge four at best, before having to depend on his sheer bulk to stave of the canons' effects.

Once they had the wizard incapacitated on their living room floor, Artemis had implemented the next part of thei- his- kidnapping scheme. The Fairy Book had documented a ritual to drain a fairy of their power- as a treatment for a medical ailment, of course, a cure against the blockage of magic in fairy veins. It was only ever meant to be temporary, and used for medicinal purposes, not that any of it had mattered to his young principal. Artemis had had the dirt on the ground, the finest in Ireland, actually, and a small potted acorn tree for the magic to return to the land. If anything, the acorn tree had looked much healthier after the ritual had been conducted draining the wizard of his magic. The same could hardly be said for the wizard. There had been concerns, of course, of adapting a ritual meant for fairies to a human, but Artemis brushed them off.

"Magic is magic," he said. "The ritual is for the removal of the force, and not that of the person. He will be fine."

Well, at the very least, the man had lived.

He was lying atop the antique Isfahan, chest rising and falling slowly. He was fairly young, about his principal's age or not much older. In fact, from certain angles he looked even younger. He had fairly even skin, but there was vivid scarring around his right jaw down his throat that looked recent, and an older, thin, lightning-bolt scar peeking it out beneath his scattered bangs. Butler surmised the wizard was physically pleasing, given Artemis's indrawn breath once they had removed the invisibility cloak from his face. Unlike his principal, though, the wizard was lean, and well-built. He was a fit man, and healthy, very used to exercise.

Having watched his movements through the cameras, Butler knew the man was extremely used to physical activity, but not in the way he himself had been. The man had been too tense, too wound up, almost. He was good, but he'd never had any formal training. He had learnt not on the streets, or even in classes, but seemingly in necessary defence.

"You have his wand." Artemis's words weren't formulated in a question format.

The stick, Butler's mind corrected. He produced it on the young man's order.

"Good. Have Mr. Liebowitz make an exact replica of it."

He glanced at his principal. He didn't need to voice the unanswered question, which Artemis answered with his patented vampire smile.

"I plan on breaking it- the replica, of course- and him."

Butler paused, perhaps too long. "Artemis, are you sure about this-"

"It is strange, old friend, to hear you questioning me like this. I welcome it, of course." Artemis gathered himself in his padded computer chair, and settled his too-thin hands into his lap.

"Do you remember Holly?"

"Of course I do," the young man replied. Butler detected a touch of irritation to his tone. "We have remained amicable, and I remember our times together fondly."

"You make her sound like- like something of the past."

"In that event, she is," Artemis replied in measure tones. "Holly, Foaly, and the rest of the LEPrecons were a part of the Lower Elements, and I have acknowledged their advanced technology, if not intelligence. But this is the Above Elements. It is mine, Butler. I will not lose it to a clutch of creatures who resort to physical brutality every change they get."

"He is waking," he rumbled. He'd had nothing else to say on the previous matter anyway. Artemis turned on his cavernous chair.

"Very good, Butler."

The man went from awake to asleep in a moment. Butler knew, but he had to admit that the man was good. If it had been anyone less trained there was the chance that they would have remained unawares. Then again, Butler _was_ a Butler, and, aged or not, he was still the best.

"Greetings, wizard."

The man was even better than he thought. He didn't try to feign it, knew he was caught immediately. His eyes snapped open, and they were a bright vivid green.

"There are many ways to catch a wizard unawares, but not that many that Muggles are aware of."

Artemis caught on immediately. "I presume that 'Muggle' is a term for a person without magic, which I am _not."_

The man stared at his principal, really long and hard, presumably taking in the vampire-pale skin, the almost too-symmetrical features, and the mismatched eyes. "Alright," the man said, shrugging, or as much as his bonds would let him. "No contention from me there. So you caught me. You were looking for us, and you've found us. Now what?"

His principal raised a slim brow. "You are taking all of this remarkably well. Some might even say too well."

The wizard shrugged again. "You're clearly very into the whole rational deal. I figure my not freaking out will at least me win me some points with you since I'm not going to get a better deal than that."

"How very reasonable of you to say so." Butler could tell that Artemis was pleasantly surprised by this turn of events.

"I try," the man said dryly. "I expect you have my wand, then?"

Artemis inclined his head to acknowledge that fact. "I have also drained you of your magic, and Butler here has you physically restrained. You are, as they say, as helpless as a newborn babe."

"Whatever I can do to please."

Artemis ignored the man's sarcasm. "You were sent by your Ministry to-"

"To kill you, yes," the man interrupted calmly.

Butler had to nearly physically rein himself in at those words so carelessly spoken.

"As you can see," Artemis continued, "that attempt was highly unsuccessful."

"Highly is a relative word," the man countered amicably. "I did take out your entire security detail."

"You are remarkably well-informed for someone from a culture in the 1800s," Artemis remarked.

The man laughed. "You mean my outfit? Yeah, it's a pretty antiquated fashion, I'll admit. Hell, it's a pretty antiquated culture, I'll give you that."

"You are strangely open about the culture you were sent to protect."

"That's what you wanted to know, isn't it? And I'd rather stay alive at the moment, you know?" The man smiled easily, but it was lopsided, as if he were trying to put them at ease, and yet there was something inexplicably bitter about it at the same time. "Now that we know what you wanted to know then, what do you want to know now?"

Artemis narrowed his eyes at the slim young man. "What's the catch?"

The man stared at him stonily. "I'm a professional. I do what I can to survive. I told you, I'm practical like that."

Artemis appeared amused. "I don't even need to torture you for information, then?"

Butler didn't want to flinch, but he very nearly did. There were honestly times where he didn't know who his principal was anymore. The man's green eyes flickered to his haggard face in what was almost sympathy.

"Knowledge is all you want, eh?" the man asked. "Will I at least get to know my captor's name?"

Artemis straightened almost imperceptibly. "I am Artemis Fowl the Second."

"Artemis Fowl, huh?" The man sighed with an unidentified emotion. "Well, meet Harry Potter."

* * *

Artemis was unnerved. This wizard was nothing like he'd ever expected. People did not react well when kidnapped. People did not react like _him_. It did not help matters that the wizard was...physically attractive to him.

Artemis had long come to the conclusion that he was not a typical human, by any means of the definition. Mentally he had passed all the set standards for his age so long ago that it wasn't even humorous when persons attempted to joke about it. Physically, he knew he was little more than underwhelming, but Artemis realised that he had a set of goals, none of which involved even considering moving gym equipment around. It was even preposterous to think about it. After all, things like that were why he kept Butler around.

When he was newly returned from the adventure concerning demon Imp No 1, he had found his eye drawn to Minerva Paradizo's young bodyguard instead of the girl herself, although he hadn't had adequate time to explore that avenue of his life, given his mother's predicament. He had a terrible inkling that if Butler had not lost those ten years in what was his most spectacular faux-pas to date, Artemis himself would be drawn to his own bodyguard, in a...slightly more intimate manner.

The very thought made him cringe. He knew Butler would deny him nothing, especially at this stage in their relationship, where they were so far past the boundaries of Butler and principal that to bereft one of the other was to permanently handicap them. But he also knew that Butler looked at him these days with weary eyes, as if asking when it was all going to stop, and even he knew there had to be set limits to their relationship.

After the lemur incident, he had dived most enthusiastically back into crime, returning to the black market world with almost a passionate vengeance to make up for lost time on both his, and his father's part. He had garnered the most vindictive pleasure while plundering ill-begotten spoils. The thing about dealing with organised crime was that they were all so predictable. Artemis had watched them run around like lab rats in response to his vicious takeovers and monopolies and laughed.

The shadows under Butler's eyes had seemed to grow tenfold that week, and then Artemis had to stop laughing.

So instead he threw himself into an alternate activity, and theorised the existence of magical humans. He, after all, was an example of one, even though he had not been born with the gift. But if there was a way to harness that power for his own uses-

Humans were invariably stupider than fairies. They were illogical, crude, and irrational- except for himself, of course, and on occasion Butler could be enlightened to reach an imitation of his level. He was in a minority, but that in itself was hardly surprising. To find himself attracted to his own sex- to further integrate himself with an even more elite minority- it almost seemed fitting, somehow.

"Tell me, then, Mr. Potter, about your culture."

"I will," the man quipped, "after you tell me of your intentions towards it. The administration might be full of boorish blockheads, certainly, but I'm sure there are certain...sections of the community that are, uh, salvageable."

Artemis let his smile grow. "You do not sound so sure, Mr. Potter. And you speak as if you expect me to conquer your civilisation. I assure you at this moment that my interest in your culture for the time being is merely scientific."

Potter looked at him flatly. The no-nonsense look was, unfortunately for Artemis, a good look for the other dark-haired man. "Science also involves an avid interest in _dissection_, Mr. Fowl. And forgive my cynicism, but I doubt your interest is purely scientific. There is nothing pure left."

"How abjectly true," Artemis hummed. "But that doesn't change the fact that I am barely, if at all older than you. Surely you cannot see one of our age conducting such a hostile conquest." He tried for a reassuring smile, but judging by the queasy look on Potter's face, he didn't do a very good job. Well, it wasn't as if Artemis had actually meant to be reassuring in the first place.

"I'm twenty-two," Potter volunteered.

Artemis nodded. "Ah. I am but two years your elder. Surely-"

"Mr. Fowl, I've heard of stranger things happening, trust me," Potter said plainly. "And there was clearly something hostile meant when you bound me-" he wiggled what limbs he could "-in this convoluted position. Sure, I came to kill you, but there's something you should know: _draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."_

The ridiculousness of the quote actually made him laugh. "What in the world would that have to do with anything?" Then the look in his eyes sharpened and grew ravenous. "Then there are such things as dragons?"

"Of course there are," Potter said matter-of-factly. "There are also goblins and house-elves and unicorns and Veela. Look at your everyday medieval bestiary, and we probably have everything in there, including centaurs, merpeople, and sphinxes." Then he cocked his head aside, and long black strands fell into his green eyes, screening them from view. They might have both had dark hair, but Potter's was so black it ate up all reflection of the light. "Will you tell me something, Mr. Fowl? Will you tell me what your motivation behind all of this is?"

He raised another cool eyebrow. "Motivation? Does one ever need a motivation besides the pursuit of knowledge?"

Potter's smile turned sardonic. "Mr. Fowl, we've been through this already." Then his green eyes darkened to near charcoal. "What drives you, Mr. Fowl? For the greater good? Hardly, I think. Perhaps for power. You say you have magic, but you have no magical training. Whatever it is, it's purely selfish." There was disdain in the lift of his lip. Then he dealt the killing blow.

"You would think one as highly evolved as yourself would know better."

* * *

Butler did not like how this interrogation was going. Very rarely did Artemis talk to someone on a level so similar to his own, but there was something about the young man that had unnerved the second Artemis Fowl, just a little bit. Butler had had his suspicions about Artemis's sexual preferences, but it wasn't his place to say anything concerning them. Somehow, Potter had gotten his opinion to mean something to his usually unflappable principal. And then that sneer-

"Butler, we're done here." Artemis rose to his feet, clocking in at a respectable five foot ten, and yet for all his length he was like a sliver standing beside his bodyguard. "Take him down."

For the first time since this whole fiasco had started, Potter turned to look him fully in the face. There was no question that he'd obey, but it didn't mean Butler couldn't feel a little regretful about this. He had an inkling that this Potter, no matter what his circumstances, would be a good man to have at his back. Somehow, the wizard seemed to sense this.

"Don't sweat it, old man." He even had the guts to grin. Strangely enough, Butler didn't find the moniker insulting, like he usually would. "From one professional to another- I'm all yours."

Artemis's lip curled with derision. "Don't tell me you're going soft, Butler."

Potter snorted, somehow managing to summon up sheer, overwhelming arrogance, despite the absolutely demeaning position he was trapped in.

"Soft? If I'm not wrong, your butler was a lot softer before he came to you." Potter's assumption that Butler was his occupation and not his name was understandable. He more resented the wizard having ever termed him 'soft', actually…

"You gave him a cause, a reason, to be even harder than his training made him. And you're calling him soft now? That's a laugh. If anyone's weak, Artemis, it's you, for not seeing the strength that you yourself have, and you yourself inspire."

The look on Artemis's face was almost vampire-still, but Butler knew the boy far too well, could see the mutinous stirring coiling beneath his implacable surface, just awaiting the right moment to strike. His jaw tightened, but the young man''s bone structure was so soft that it was nearly impossibly to tell except for a barely discernible tic beneath his left eye.

"Butler," he said again. "I leave this to you." Then he left the room altogether.

A gusty sigh interrupted his train of thought, and Butler turned back to their prisoner. "So, the dungeons, eh? I'm guessing they're pretty typical? Hell, you live in a castle. I'd say the dungeons are as typical as dungeons get."

"Why are you doing this?" Those were five words more than Butler had ever spoken to any prisoner Artemis had ever taken. There was something about this Potter, though, a mutual understanding of a code of honour, between protectors alike. He heaved the young man to his feet, then freed his ankles so he could walk. Still, he kept Potter on his better side. Having seen the man move once before made Butler know he stood no chance getting away, especially from such a close range.

Potter's answer was a short, sharp, and precisely to the point. How different he and Artemis were.

"Because there's nothing left for me to do."

* * *

"Mr. Potter."

The man glanced up from within the cell. His wrists and ankles were chained together with just fifteen links between them. There was just enough for Potter to stand and mince his steps, nothing else. Exactly how he'd intended.

"Ah, Mr. Fowl. Here for an update on the wizarding world?"

Artemis stared down at the man slumped on the floor, and flipped the light switch on. He watched Potter blink owlishly at the sudden brightness. The way he scrounged up his nose, blinkered rapidly- these were all signs that pointed to the fact that he had previously worn eyepieces, and for a long time. If he narrowed his eyes, he could just make out the very faint indentations still left on the bridge of his nose. Then Artemis blinked. He had no time to waste on meandering thoughts like this.

"Since you seem to be so willing to divulge. Tell me then, what ails your world?"

Potter's lips twisted savagely. It seemed like he had hit a sore point on the first try, even– not like that was truly surprising. "What makes you say that?"

Artemis had made it clear that he was not a typical young man, but just being around this wizard seemed to make him want to indulge in banal motions. He rolled his eyes. "Could you not be anymore evident?"

The young man quirked his mouth up guiltily. "Oops." Then he sighed, and flopped back against the cell wall. His green eyes grew distant. "I believed in them for a very long time. I gave them everything I had. And they took it all. I didn't fault them for it, not for a long time." He scrunched his limbs together enough for his hand to rub at the livid scarring on his jaw and neck. The size of the wound and its placement made Artemis wonder how Potter had even survived an attack like that.

"But you do now. What for?"

Potter snorted. "If I went into the details we'd be here all night, and while I'm used to shit conditions like this, I don't think you are, Mr. Fowl. Let's just say they I made a scapegoat whenever the administration needed one and leave it at that, alright?"

"A familiar story," Artemis said, inclining his head politely.

The young man raised his hands palm up as far as he could. "I never claimed to be a writer. In fact I'm horrid. I used to have someone correct my essays in school."

Artemis seized on that. "There is a school, then, for- wizards and witches, then?"

Potter nodded. "You already knew that though. That was site zero for contact. A group of First-Years found you, for Merlin's sake- do you know how creepy you look when you smile like that?"

His words made Artemis feel more smug than chastised. "Yeah," Potter griped, "that one. That creepy vampire smile. And you had to come out of the Forbidden Forest, of all places!"

"To return to the school-"

Potter abruptly narrowed his eyes. "You touch the children there and I will do more than kill you."

Artemis stilled. There was something...different about this man's threats. He supposed he had never been threatened by someone who he had been physically attracted to, not to mention how evident it was that this school was probably the most important thing in Potter's life. Artemis had no doubt that Potter could and would find some way to make real his threat, despite his intelligence, despite even Butler. Magic was, after all, exactly that. Magic.

"I do not attack-" innocents, he wanted to say, but what about Holly? He might not do physical violence against actual sentient beings, but he had time and again been the cause and instigator of such cases. There was nothing he could say that would put Potter at rest- "It is not my intention to target them. At this moment I am merely curious."

Potter turned his head to the side, and he looked young, barely out of school. In this society, he would have just been out of university. How long had he been out of school? Artemis wondered.

"What do you want, Artemis?" the man asked. His voice was subdued and weary.

"I seem to remember this conversation from a few days ago," Artemis replied.

"Yeah, so what? You never gave me an answer." Strangely enough, the other's colloquialism didn't offend him.

"You were right," Artemis admitted. "I have every intention of using them."

Potter didn't turn to look at him. "What is it?" he asked softly.

Potter stayed silent for a moment longer, and then spoke. "I'm just trying to think about what to say. I don't know. Those people- they need change. They need it _so badly-"_ Artemis could almost feel his own teeth ache with the need. "And yet at the same time they'd just die if anything did change. I don't know what to do."

Something he said made him frown. "Why do you try so hard? It makes no sense, given how they appear to treat you."

The other man snorted. "I never said I was smart, either."

Artemis waited for an explanation, causing Potter to sigh. "I've never been received particularly well in this world or in that one, alright? At least there they need me. I'd rather be cannon fodder for a cause than cannon fodder, period."

"Particularly well- why-" the words slipped out before he could help them. To his abject horror, he felt his cheeks heat up in response. Thankfully, though, the other man didn't seem to notice. He didn't know if he was upset or thankful.

"It's an even longer story than the last one," Potter was saying, laughing softly to himself. "It's basically in my résumé to save whoever I come across."

"What if-" Artemis didn't know what he was saying "-what if you did not return?" He didn't stumble and never stammered. Unfortunately, Potter didn't seem to appreciate the anomaly.

"You mean if I die here?" Potter asked, quite obliviously. "They'll probably organise some huge celebrated funeral. And the next week after they'll either send someone out here that will get picked off by your security detail; they won't get anywhere near your butler. Or they might just forget about the whole thing. They're very good at pretending things they can't see don't exist."

"Your government employs a twenty-two-year-old for a super soldier project?" he asked quite unbelievingly. Even in his world, and the world below, such things were highly improbable.

"The word 'employ' holds the implication of a paid salary," Potter drawled.

Artemis shook his head. "I do not understand why," he said again. He was rarely in the habit of repeating himself like this, but the circumstances surrounding this Potter seemed truly incredible.

Potter gave him another one of those trademark lopsided smiles. "I don't, either. The only rationale I can come up with is that I'm no good for anything else."

"Could you not leave them?"

Potter eyed him suspiciously, but the quirk in his lips hadn't left yet. In fact, their indentation seemed to deepen. "Why, Mr. Fowl, are you trying to _save_ me?"

Artemis stiffened at the jest, but the light in Potter's eyes was warm. "I appreciate it, Artemis, I really do. But there isn't anything left for me anywhere else. And you mustn't underestimate them, Artemis. Despite all the close-mindedness, and outdated modes of behaviour, they still possess magic. If what you say is true, then you've seen its effects for yourself firsthand, and magic is-" he waved his bound wrists in a gesture Artemis was used to seeing from a Muggle magician, not a true wizard, "-truly magical."

In the same movement Potter surged to his feet, and the chains were gone. Artemis stared wide-eyed up at him, too dumbstruck to be able to do anything else. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever rendered himself such. The wizard never seemed more beautiful and terrible as he stood to his full height, power seeming to warp and ripple about his lean frame like a cloak. "How-" Artemis started. The ritual should have incapacitated the man's magic for at least another month.

"The normal rules don't seem to apply to me, for some reason." Potter's offhand reply seemed to make the situation even more ludicrous. But then the man just sank bank down in the cell as though he'd never been freed, although he did take the liberty of stretching his limbs out this time.

"Och, that's a good feeling. I was getting a muscle cramp there." And then he began to rub at the fresh scarring on his neck, making Artemis frown. If it was bothering the man that badly- he shook his head to clear it. He had no time to be thinking of frivolous things like this!

"Why-" Potter was without the oddest creature he had ever had the opportunity to meet, above or below ground, and Artemis had met some odd characters throughout the years.

Potter grinned at him. "I made a promise to your butler. He's a good man, that one. He'd kill me in a heartbeat if he ever thought I was any threat to you." And then the light died from his eyes, and Artemis found himself missing it. "Realise it, Artemis. Realise how much you mean to him, how much he needs you, how much you empower him without even knowing it. I know you're really independent, and stuff, and you probably don't need him as much as he needs you, but you've got to respect that about the man, at least. His loyalty to you knows no bounds." Was that envy in Potter's too-green eyes?

Artemis sighed. In the face of such indefatigable logic, who was he to contest? "'And stuff' was not the way I would have put it," he murmured, rising to his feet. He took the few brief steps to the bars and laid his palm against a solid black panel. At once it lit up and glowed blue, reading his fingerprints, and then a laser shot out to take a dual retina scan that was inimitable, given how he was in possession of one fairy retina and one human one. Although his dungeons appeared every bit as old as the fourteenth century castle he lived in, Artemis had added a few...upgrades over the years. Finally a tinny mechanical voice bipped, "Voice-password confirmation required."

He said one word in Gnommish, that was, oddly enough, one of the hardest to pronounce on a human tongue. "Release."

The door swung open immediately. He looked down at Potter, the image unhampered by bars for the first time in a week. The man's eyes were wide and shocked. "Wuh-what are you doing?" he stuttered, rather needlessly, Artemis felt. His hand did drop from his neck, though, and Artemis felt all the more smug for it.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked right back. "You haven't been given the grand tour." In what he thought was a rather brave manoeuvre, he held his hand out to Potter to aid him to his feet.

The wizard stared at the limb, gleaming pale and colourless in the dark, for such a long time that Artemis feared, for the first time in an even longer time, rejection. The wait was just as excruciating as he last remembered, more than two decades ago, before he'd come to the realisation that his intelligence meant that he had to be very, very alone.

However, when Potter extended his own hand and grasp it, it made Artemis wonder if joy felt something akin to this. Potter's palm was dry and rough, the fingers thicker and more solid than his own pianist's digits. On his feet, Potter was barely an inch shorter, but Artemis never remembered seeing a smile that wide on his own face. It looked like a slash of vivid white that threatened to split the wizard's face in half.

"Glad to take you up on that."

* * *

There was a Sig Sauer waiting for them when they turned the corner.

"Step away from him, now." Butler was actually a little disappointed in his principal. He would have thought Artemis would have known better by now, although it was also an oversight on his part for him to have let him go down to the dungeons alone.

"Butler, it's al-"

"Step. Away."

Potter was already backing away, hands held up. "Mr. Butler-"

"Shut up."

Artemis sighed in exasperation. "Butler, I unlocked the bars myself. Not even Juliet has access to them, just both of us. I would think that I have enough sense to know that I am under some kind of wizard-inspired Mesmer."

The huge bodyguard slowly lowered his gun, although he was clearly still on his guard. Potter smiled a little. "You still have my wand, don't you?"

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Given that display of yours downstairs, your wand strikes me as an option, not a necessity."

The other man scratched his head. "Good point. Well, for most people they're pretty necessary. I told you, I'm just a little odd like that."

"You are certainly the one for understatement."

Butler looked piercingly between the two young men. There was a camaraderie between them that hadn't been there, a sort of understanding similar to the understanding he thought he'd had with Potter, and apparently still did.

The young man shunted his hands into his pockets, grinning. "Artemis's just giving me the grand tour. Care to join us, Mr. Butler?"

"His name actually is Butler," Artemis informed him. Impossibly green eyes widened.

"Wow. That's some career commitment. I've never thrown any clay at all. Unless it counts if you throw it at people."

Artemis was rolling his eyes again, but he couldn't quite hide the glimmer of amusement in his heterochromatic eyes. Butler had been trained to notice things like this. It looked like if Artemis had anything to say about it, Potter might just become a regular fixture in the Fowl household. It would be interesting, of course, to hear what his principal's parents had to say about this, but knowing Artemis, it wasn't like he would listen anyway. Artemis the First and Angeline Fowl were usually away on their sixth or so re-discovery honeymoon, while the twins were off on a skiing trip in the Alps, and Marilyn, the littlest Fowl, was busy at a boarding school in France, leaving Artemis the full run of the keep.

"Butler, I am sure you will join us regardless of my opinion. If we could continue?"

His principal's lilting voice phrased it as a question, but if that wasn't an order, the bodyguard didn't know what was. Judging by the half-hidden smile on Potter's face, the man recognised it as well.

It seemed like Butler's initial feeling about Potter was right. They would get along well.

* * *

There are a half-dozen other projects I should be working on right now, but I really wanted to post this (o: Do review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Fair is Fowl, and Fowl is Fair**

Summary: Artemis probed too far and too deep, and awoke a sleeping dragon. What he didn't realise was how much he needed an awakening of his own. Artemis Fowl/Harry Potter crossover. Warnings for slash. Artemis/Harry.

**NOTE: WARNINGS FOR SLASH**

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* * *

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To Cen, for being such a trendsetter. Lol.

The ages of the twins and Marilyn have been bumped up from canon.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor the Macbeth quote from which the title is taken

* * *

Chapter Two

After the ubiquitous tour, it seemed almost natural for Potter to walk around the grounds, erecting wards around the castle and casting spells that rendered Fowl Manor 'unplottable'. He never once gave his hosts any sort of trouble. Artemis accompanied him on these excursions, as much out of curiosity as attraction. There were some days he was almost sure Potter was aware of his interest in him, and then others where Artemis felt he was deluding himself. He had been able to pin down some of the wiliest personalities in the world, and yet this singular creature continually eluded him. It was a part of his charm, Artemis felt.

After turning the keep 'unplottable', all without the use of his wand- and Potter had never once asked after it- he then turned to other protections for the castle, most of which involved lots of long, convoluted strings of chants, carving rituals, and strange potions ingredients that consisted of the most bizarre animal odds and ends. Those, combined with their stolen fairy technology and Artemis's own dabbling into programming security systems, probably turned Fowl Manor into the most impregnable castle in the world.

When Artemis the First and Angeline returned from their seventh consecutive world tour with little Marilyn in tow, they found their home the liveliest it had ever been. The twins had returned from skiing in the Alps the week before, and had joined forces with Juliet and their houseguest in attempt after unsuccessful attempt to trip up their older brothers.

"Wherever did you find him, Arty?" Angeline asked of the exquisite young Englishman who had no qualms with tutoring Marilyn in Shelley or roughhousing with the twins. It was like he'd always been a part of their family. As they were speaking, the three young men were outside with a rugby ball, trying to get as dirty as possible while wearing as little as possible. Juliet had been roped into refereeing their match, but she was just taking the opportunity to ogle that much exposed male flesh.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Artemis muttered under his breath.

"Surrey," became the official bland answer.

Where others might have suspected their houseguest of foul play, especially given how he seemed to integrate himself so seamlessly within the household, Artemis had no qualms about that. Potter was a soldier, not a politician, and from the longing he shot the twins whenever they tag-teamed with Marilyn to sneak her out of etiquette classes, he knew that family was sacred to him. He would make no move against them while he lived under their roof. Once he left, however, was a different story entirely.

Despite the twins and Marilyn constantly clamouring for his attention, Potter still found time to have spend each evening and twilight with him around the grounds. It had become somewhat of a routine, that they would wordlessly fall into step with each other in the light of the setting sun, Butler trailing them inconspicuously. Sometimes they would walk, other times ride steeds from the stable, but there was never a set pattern. Neither of them could afford such carelessness.

It was on their way back one crisp autumn night that they ran across the twins, doing whatever infuriating things it was that twins their age did. While Myles and Beckett made it a point to frequently make open declarations of their intolerance for each other, they were still more often than not found in each other's company. Potter waved merrily at them as they walked briskly past, trying unsuccessfully to hide the half-naked Juliet between them. It might have been a slightly easier task if Juliet had wanted to be hidden, and hadn't waved cheerfully back.

"Are _they_ not searching for you?" he asked, trying to erase the thought of _his _little brothers and _Butler's _little sister from his head. It would only be a matter of time before his bodyguard found out- and just where _was _he at the moment, he wondered- and Artemis found himself earnestly hoping he wouldn't be around for the prospective fireworks.

The other man shrugged casually, catching onto his inflection almost naturally. "They could be. For all I know, they actively are. I am, after all, supposedly only just their greatest asset," he drawled. The words themselves were self-absorbed and pompous, but Potter's voice still ached with something unknown.

"Do you ever miss it? Anything about it?"

Potter flung himself ungraciously on the grass. When Artemis just stared down at him, he grinned back up, and patted the part of the knoll hill beside him. "Have a seat."

Gingerly, Artemis sat down beside him. "The magic," Potter told him. "It's the magic. I came to the realisation just the other day that I don't care about the people, honestly; I haven't in years. But there isn't anything quite like the magic. Then again," he said, a little sadly, "I can use it anywhere I like, so there isn't any real cause to miss...anything, is there?"

He shook his head as if to rid himself of such thoughts, and then with a wave of his hand, caused a plate of gingersnap cookies to appear in his palm. For the second time that day, when Artemis stared at him blankly, the man gave him a crooked smile. "Gingersnap cookies," he said simply. "They're your favourite, aren't they?"

Hesitantly, Artemis reached out and took one. At Potter's continued urging, he bit into it. It was delicious, almost as good as the ones Juliet would make for him on her days off. Then he inwardly winced, trying not to think of Juliet, as thoughts of Juliet inevitably led to thoughts of Juliet with his brothers, which inevitably led to thoughts of what Butler would _do _to his brothers once he found out-

"It's good," he said instead.

Potter smiled. "Good." He took one himself and gobbled it eagerly, as if he'd been starved for a week. Come to think of it, Potter ate all of his meals like that, as if they were going to be his last.

"Why do you eat like that?" he asked curiously. Artemis had his suspicions, of course, but he still wanted to hear it from the source.

The man looked down at the crumbling cookie in his hand as if he hadn't realised the destruction he had wrought. "What? Oh, this." He scattered the rest of the biscuit out over the hill, smiling when birds began swooping down and pecking at the ground. "It's a terrible habit, I know. I already grew out of it once, but then something happened...and I told myself that being a fed fool was better than being a dead fool who'd minced his manners at the table."

The words chilled Artemis to the bone, and he didn't quite know why. He had seen worse things happened, heard worse tales, even caused worse things, but there was something about this man in front of him, grinning at nothing in particular, that invoked a feeling in him he'd forgotten had even existed.

"Why, Artemis?" Potter asked.

"Why what?"

Potter leaned back on his elbows and let his head hang, baring the long line of his throat. He was still smiling. "Why all the questions when you aren't going to do anything about it?"

Artemis froze. "How do you know I'm not?"

"I haven't told you anything worth telling in the past six months. I think your patience only extends so far to these kinds of matters. If you'd wanted some genuine news, I think I would have found myself back in that cell much sooner. As it is, I'm hoping I haven't guessed wrong, and you aren't seriously considering having Butler haul some Potter arse back down there." His lips quirked up a little sideways at that.

"There...there is still so much left to know," the genius whispered. The realisation that he'd actually forgotten about pressing Potter about his world was slightly unnerving, to say the least. It had almost given his game away…and he'd always been en pointe, efficient and on task to the point of perfection. Just then the thoughts of Juliet, Myles, and Beckett resurfaced in his mind. Artemis couldn't remember the last time his thoughts had been this domestic, this mundane, nor this...dare he say it? Content.

"You _aren't_ going to do anything about it, are you?" Potter asked worriedly, leaning forward to peer into his dark blue-and-hazel eyes. The closeness of his presence unnerved him even more, if such a fact was humanely possible. It seemed like Potter had broken into his bathroom again, and had been using his toiletries. That was his soap he smelt, shampoo and conditioner, and the very same eau de cologne. The scent stirred something primal and forgotten within his chest that felt like a monster, just raging and clawing at his hollow ribcage to get out.

"I was almost sure, but if it's magic you want to know about, I can tell you everything about it, everything I know. But you don't- you don't have to try and take over the world or anything like that, do you? Isn't- isn't it okay, just to stay here, and let sleeping dogs lie?"

His wording was deplorable, but Artemis couldn't deny Potter's assessment as anything other than truth. He glanced down at the frail fingers clenched his lap, and then back up into Potter's vivid green eyes.

* * *

Young Master Artemis had changed, Butler decided. And he knew he had only their equally young (younger, in fact) houseguest to thank for it.

Six months ago he would have never believed it. Six months ago he had just walked their prisoner to his newest home: a six-by-six cell four storeys underground with chains on his ankles connected to chains on his wrists. And then one brisk autumn afternoon he had found Artemis and Potter out on the grounds, sitting on the grass of all things, although it looked like his principal had been cajoled into the indignity by the other young man. There was an uncharacteristically lost look on his charge's face, and Potter was close, too close; for a moment Butler feared that he had made a very grave mistake, in allowing Potter the intimacy he appeared to deserve.

But then Artemis was looking up at Potter and speaking, and while his face was still too grave, his words brought a beatific smile to the other man's face, and Potter began to laugh, long and hard, throwing an arm carelessly over Artemis's shoulder and pulling him close, before yanking them both down to sprawl on the grass. Artemis looked appalled at how mussed he was becoming, but Butler didn't miss the tinge of colour in his cheeks from Potter's proximity. Their faces were side-by-side, and even Butler had to admit the openness in the other's smile was breathtaking. He hid a smile of his own when he thought of his principal's reaction to such guilelessness. Already Artemis looked slightly stricken. If Butler didn't know better, he would have thought Artemis in a _panic. _But of course, Fowls would never condescend to _panic_.

Still, it was Butler's job to save Artemis, even from his own hormones. He stealthily approached them from behind, although Potter still seemed to sense his coming, and tilted his head back, relieving Artemis from the blinding radiance of his smile and redirecting it at Butler instead. If he had been any less astute, he would have entirely missed the sigh of relief his principal took, and had to hide a chuckle behind a highly uncharacteristic cough.

Potter's smile turned almost immediately into a frown. "Butler, you shouldn't be out here, not if you have a cough. It's a bit chilly, and you might get a cold."

Butler briefly wondered if he should first tell their guest that he'd never been sick a day in his life, or that it was barely fifty degrees, even with the wind chill, but his principal got there before him.

"Butler is well aware of the limitations of his body, Mr. Potter," he announced haughtily. Butler noticed that the faint colour on his face hadn't quite faded yet. "And besides, he was about to-"

"I'd rather not take any chances," Potter interrupted almost nonchalantly. By the downturned set of his lips, it was quite clear to everyone that something had upset the man. It continually amazed him that Artemis would choose someone so completely opposite to him in every possible way.

"And you're looking a little flushed, too, Artemis. I think we can continue this conversation indoors, don't you think, Butler?" Potter was already on his feet, and hauling Artemis up beside him, before reaching for Butler's shoulder, and the bodyguard was treated to the rather unpleasant feeling of being squeezed through a pipe. It was even worse than having to cramming himself into one of those bloody LEPrecon shuttles. But when he opened his eyes he found that he, and the other two, were back in Artemis's empty sitting room.

"Apparition," Potter explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm the only one keyed into the wards, so you don't have to worry about anyone else trying to sneak in and kidnap you like that. And the wards prevent me from Apparating outside the grounds, so you don't ever have to worry about that. I'm sorry I didn't give you any other warning, but I didn't want either of you to catch a cold." Even at the word he shivered intensely, pulling the elk fur-lined coat he had borrowed from Artemis's closet tighter about him. He smiled a little at them both, but it was a pale imitation of the smiles he had freely shared with his principal earlier. "I'll leave you two at it, then."

Piece said, Potter shuffled quickly across the room and out, probably to burrow underneath a huge pile of warmed blankets by the side of a roaring fire. Although his concern had obviously been for himself as well as Artemis, Butler knew that there was something wrong with Potter, to cause him to react so violently to even the slightest chill. Having lived in a draughty Scottish castle for, as he understood it, seven years, must have been almost hell.

"When Mr. Potter was asleep, I had a medical performed on him."

Butler turned his body slightly to face his principal, acknowledging the fact that he was listening. The younger man wasn't looking at him, was instead looking the way Potter had gone with a flat, intense stare.

"He'll have osteoporosis before he reaches the age of thirty. More than three-quarters of the bones in his body have been broken at least twice– that translates to roughly 405 unoperated major and minor breaks at the very least, since he has lived with those relatives of his as an infant. The earlier breaks were given little time to heal before being re-broken, and the bone grew back weaker and weaker each time. The calcium levels in some of the older breaks are nearly nonexistent. It is likely that he was abused as a child, starved, most likely, before being forced to participate in excessive physical activity– whether running from bullies, or the magical world's absurd idea of super-soldier training, I do not know. His condition has worsened after his bones started fusing together upon reaching puberty. Osteoporosis is the least of his worries."

Artemis then launched into a clinical recitation of a very long list of diagnoses, half of which were diseases and symptoms usually found in the third-world. It seemed almost impossible that Potter, if he was to believed, had grown up in a town just bordering London.

Butler actually found himself shivering at the prospect of another worthy challenge in the air.

"I am going to destroy them, Butler." There was no question of who 'they' were. "I am going to destroy them for what they did to him."

* * *

It hadn't taken Potter long to catch on. There was, after all, only so much they could do without his particular insight. He had not been blind to Artemis's increasing attempts at pulling away, either. It was the first time Potter had encountered him in his 'mission' mode, but Artemis would not let himself be dissuaded, not even for a pretty face. He tried not to think about the fact that his motivation was exactly that pretty face.

It came as somewhat of a surprise, then, when Potter had caught him one day working on a magic-dissipating bomb, that he hadn't exploded at him on sight. Artemis had staring back, rather stonily, practically inviting a confrontation, when Potter suddenly broke into a subdued smile, and knocked on his doorframe, asking if he could come in.

Cautiously, Artemis undid the security lock on his workroom, and allowed his guest in. Potter was not reacting in any way he expected him to. The man had grown up a Muggle, he had divulged that much, so he knew what bombs looked like, which also meant he knew exactly what Artemis was working on, although Artemis was still hoping to change the bomb's casing at a later date to give it a more innocuous appearance.

Potter walked slowly into the room, wearing another one of Artemis's borrowed coats. The weather had only gotten colder, and although Artemis had ordered the central heating to be turned up higher than normal, it still seemed appeared Potter was much more vulnerable to the elements than originally thought.

"Can I tell you something?" Potter asked, timidly.

That tone alarmed Artemis possibly more than anything else had. It had been close to eight months since they'd first met, and Potter had never once shown himself to be timid the entire time. He merely nodded, indicating for Potter to take a seat, before pouring him a cup of tea and passing the saucer to him. Butler, hidden in the far corner, could have done that, but Artemis had a feeling Potter wanted to continue the illusion that there were the only two in the room, although he would have known Butler wouldn't be far from his principal.

Potter took the cup, and the seat, and bowed his head for a long time. He didn't lift it again when he began to speak.

It was a long story, he began, so he hoped Artemis would bear with him. It was a story about a boy, who'd been labelled to death before he'd been even old enough to know what a label meant. That boy had grown up his entire life thinking he was a freak, his whole identity revolving around that single name he'd been called as a child, and even up to this day, had problems forgetting. One day a friendly half-giant had come for him, and it seemed for a moment like he just might be able to get away from it all, but all he really got was nine months out of a year at playing an even bigger freak than he'd been before.

He'd spent seven long years, sloughing away at it, still believing, above all else, in the goodness of people, and that one day, he'd find someone who'd tell him that things would really change, that things were really different. The only difference each year was whether someone was trying to outright kill him, or slander his name to make the vox populi want to kill him. But he had held on, and he had tried.

There had been a very bad man. He'd killed the boy's parents, and a lot of other good people as well. There'd been a war, before the boy was born, and the man was thought to be dead. In actuality he wasn't, and it seemed like the boy had been prophesied to put an end to all that codswallop, and he did, although it was a rather long and arduous journey, filled with far too many bodies for his liking. One of them had been his mentor, the headmaster at his school, who'd made his own fair share of mistakes when it had come to the boy's welfare, but he had tried, as much as the boy had, to make things right.

But, like he said, the boy managed to kill that very evil man, and he thought things would change then. That they'd get back to normal, or as normal as they'd been before. And things did change. People moved on with their lives, became happy. Things changed, but they wouldn't allow him to change.

He argued that he'd had his own life to live; who were they to demand he put his life on the line each time to protect him, when no one had done the same for him? No one seemed to hear. The worst of it was that the two vultures leading the pack had been his two best friends in school. They had watched him carefully for seven years, known everything about him, known exactly which buttons to press, which arm to twist. The boy hadn't been able to hold his head up since.

Artemis was silent throughout the entire telling. There were many points during Potter's tale where he could have interrupted with a perfunctory note of outrage, but none of them would have been appropriate. While outrage may have been what Artemis felt, he had a feeling outrage wasn't what Potter was looking for, let alone on his behalf.

Then Potter had finally looked up, and he had smiled at Artemis.

"Juliet told me I was being an idiot."

Just eight words, and the tension in the room cranked up to the point where it was almost palpable. Artemis wasn't surprised by this, aware by now how the slightly younger man would trigger these unfamiliar protective of feelings within him, but it did come as a bit of a welcome surprise that Butler felt the same way.

The bodyguard had spent his entire life training separating the critical part of his brain from his emotions, and separating the Fowls and Juliet from every other human. Of course, there was still supposed to be a professional distance bordering their associations, but all of Butler's training was useless in the face of the unwavering force that was Artemis Fowl the Second. After the utter demolition that Artemis had wrecked on his training, it seemed only natural that Butler would rebuild his protective walls higher than ever. What came as the real zinger (Potter had been _quite _the influence on his vocabulary!) was how Potter had managed to weasel his way in, almost absently, and it seemed more than right for him to be there.

Potter laughed in the face of their concern.

"You know Juliet better than that; you know she didn't mean it like that!" He was grinning, but there was still a touch of sorrow behind his eyes. "She was just trying to make me see what was right in front of me this entire while, but I was too much of an idiot to see it."

Artemis raised a turgid brow. "Oh?"

"I thought about what she said, in context with what I said, and I realised something."

Here Potter paused, and Artemis realised the man was waiting for him to speak.

"...what did you realise?"

"I was always looking at their world as my haven, my solace. I blinded myself to any other alternative. This was another routine...disposal for me." The word sounded harsh and wrong coming from Potter's throat. "I didn't think about anything other than the mission, couldn't let myself. Perhaps it was the best thing that ever happened to me that you caught me."

Artemis stilled, unsure of where this conversation was going.

"I told you a while back, Artemis, that all you had to do was realise it. People will move whole _mountains _for you, and you don't even have to blackmail them into doing it." Potter grinned, and teasingly chucked him on the shoulder. Artemis smiled weakly back, a far cry from his usual vampire's smirk. "And I'd be honoured if you'd count me as one of those in your arsenal."

Artemis couldn't help it. His mismatched eyes widened, not only at Potter's offer, but at his word choice. He knew Potter knew he wouldn't have missed something like this. 'Team' could have been interpreted as either passive or aggressive, but to address himself as part of an 'arsenal'– there was no debating Potter's implication and leanings.

"Are you quite sure of this?" he asked. Normally he would take unrelenting advantage of an asset with this level of ability, but he had a rather terrible feeling this fight with the magicals was going to be personal, with Potter involved. Then again, it was always personal, wherever Potter was concerned. The man had no idea of the concept of professional distance.

Potter nodded, a cool smile on his lips. His gaze was unwavering. He obviously didn't blame Artemis for requiring a confirmation. He had, after all, threatened to kill him all those months back when Artemis had only suggested involving the children.

"What's changed, Mr. Potter?" he asked softly. "Why now?"

The man laughed again. "Well, for one I'm going to have to get you to start calling me Harry, some way or other. Mr. Potter's just too...stifling."

"Harry," he tried slowly. The answering smile he received was worth everything in the past eight months, and more.

"What Juliet said had me thinking," Pott-_Harry- _began. "I couldn't keep being torn in two like this. And I decided- I decided, to be selfish for once, for my own sake rather than anyone else's. I decided to stay- if you'll have me, of course!- at the only place where I've ever been able to find peace." He glanced coquettishly over, as if he half-expected Artemis to refuse him.

"No!" he blurted out, and then flushed at the uncomfortable situation. No matter the misbegotten attempts from all his family members save the twins, Artemis was still lacking proficiency in dealing with emotional circumstances. "No," he repeated in a gentler tone, "you are most welcome to stay. Harry," he added awkwardly.

The man looked at him as if he didn't quite understand his words, but then a smile slowly grew on his lips, a wide, overbearing kind of smile, that stretched his mouth open wide. "Thank you, Artemis," he whispered.

Artemis couldn't help it. They were sitting that close, after all. He only had to lean forward maybe two inches to brush their lips together. He'd never kissed anyone before, so he didn't know what to expect, even though Minerva had tried to jump him quite frequently when they were still in their teens. He had been most glad when he received an invitation to her marriage in the post–

Green eyes stared at blue- and hazel. They were a very, very green, staring at a very, very blue- and hazel.

"Do all these things always end this lucky?" Harry whispered.

"I don't believe in luck," Artemis informed him.

He didn't think they were words that provided amusement, but Harry was still smiling. "I didn't think you would. You aren't the sort that would."

"You'll stay?" Artemis pressed, needing to hear the answer to this question, above all else.

"I said I would," Harry promised, pressing their hands tight. "It's all that really needs to be said, isn't it?"

Artemis sighed softly, and leaned his head in the crook Harry's neck made. It seemed natural for the man to bring up his arm and wrap it around his narrow shoulders, tugging him even closer, almost into his lap.

"Mother will be pleased," Artemis concluded at length. "She's been concocting all sorts of schemes to get you to stay for good and keep the twins in line, if nothing else. But though she might be my mother, she doesn't have half the intellect I do, and of course her plans would have failed."

Harry huffed a laugh into his hair. "Of course," he drawled sarcastically. "Lucky she's got you then?" He tilted his head sideways, so he could pull away enough to look Artemis in the eye. The slim genius was struck by how raw the emotions were pooling in his eyes. "Lucky I've got you."

Artemis thought his words deserved another kiss. Unlike the first one, which had been tentative and cool, Harry was ready now, and caught his mouth up with his. Artemis could feel the smile on his lips, and an answering one on Harry's own, as their lips and then tongues tangled together. He discreetly signalled for Butler to leave these rooms. He really didn't think his bodyguard needed to see what was going to happen next.

Harry's mouth trailed from his lips, up his smooth jaw, to his ear, and then down his throat, nibbling lightly the entire way. Artemis was startled into laughing when Harry bit down near his collarbone.

"I was unaware that I was vulnerable in that area," he derided, lip beginning to curl.

Harry just laughed at him. "It's only a part of the fun when you are," he said, and bit the same place again without warning, making him yelp and instinctively swat the other man away. There was an almost maniac gleam in Harry's eye when he pounced.

Artemis had never enjoyed physical activity, but discovered that he didn't mind it so much when the other participant was Harry, and the physical exertions were working towards ends such as these. They mock-tussled for a while, Harry nearly winning, before riling Artemis up enough to use his knowledge of acupuncture to send the man sprawling to the bed beneath him. Now Artemis was sitting atop him, legs astride on either side of his hips, wearing a crooked smile.

"That's much better than that vampire grin of yours," Harry said approvingly, touching the corner of his mouth. Then he smirked, and it was downright dirty. "In fact, I'd rather see you in that smile and nothing else at all."

Perhaps even an hour ago Artemis would have stiffened, but just the knowledge of having Harry willingly in his house and in his bed emboldened him. "All's fair in love and war," he hissed, raking his nails down the man's chest, catching at nipples and making the other's breath hitch.

Harry managed a stuttering laugh as he arched into Artemis's touch. "In love and war, maybe, but you're a Fowl. Things are never fair with you." The grin on his face said he didn't quite mind it half as much as his words appeared to indicate.

"Oh?" Artemis cocked his eyebrow at him. Then he pointed. "In that case, clothes off."

It felt new, and daring, and Artemis felt the same thrill normally triggered by plunging headfirst into inter-species escapades racing through his veins. When their skin touched skin, he couldn't help but close his eyes in bliss. Lips assaulted his own, his neck, his chest, and his belly, making him laugh and sigh at all the appropriate spots. And when Harry reached under him, hiking his legs up in a shamefully vulnerable position, Artemis couldn't find it in himself to care much more than a second or two, not about the fact that his body was never meant to have objects inserted up there, no matter how gently or lovingly, and he found himself uncaring even in the knowledge that he'd be physically raw afterward. Harry kissed the back of his knee, all the while urging his fingers in deeper, carving out a space that would fit his much larger erection.

Meanwhile, Artemis took the pulsing organ in hand and stroked it, inwardly delighting in the soft-hard feel, and the emanating heat. He twisted his wrist, causing Harry to gasp and his hips to buck forward, and a smile to grace his lips, lips that the other man kissed just moments after.

"You say you don't believe in luck," he murmured against Artemis's lips, "but I don't quite know who else to thank for a miracle like this."

"How about me?" Artemis asked, a teasing light in his eye.

Harry laughed. "I don't know if I'm willing to give you that much credit yet." He steadied Artemis's hip, and then pushed in. Despite his effort to contain his emotions, Artemis still couldn't help but bite his lip, not quite able to hide the wince that followed.

"How about now?" he rasped, squirming his hips in an effort to adjust.

Harry's eyes were soft as he took in the taut line of the Fowl Heir's body, and the tight look on his face. "Maybe," he whispered, ghosting his lips over Artemis's eyes and mouth. "Maybe."

He brushed his hand down Harry's cheek, past his neck, to his chest, and the man shivered heavily. The red-coloured skin that had always intrigued him felt too smooth and too sticky to be real. _Grafts, _his mind told him.

"Can I ask what happened?"

Harry rocked his hips once, an aghast look on his face as he ripped a moan out of both their throats. "Now?" he asked incredulously.

Artemis swallowed heavily, his head falling back as he was continually assaulted by waves of pleasure, barely managing to nod.

Harry's young face tightened, and his emerald eyes looked like they cracked a little more at his answer. "Maybe later," he whispered, and thrust in again before he could get another word in.

Artemis let his head hang as Harry began to strike up a rhythm, and then gripped his own erection in an effort to keep up with him. Not that he needed very much else in the way of stimulation. The realisation that he didn't know his body's responses quite half as well as he thought and not a quarter as well as he liked was disturbing, but he found it easy to forget when assuaged by unrelenting surges of bliss, again and again, as Harry kept up his easy rocking motions, careful not to push Artemis beyond the boundaries of what he could take.

The post-coital languor was extremely soothing– at least until he realised just how filthy the two of them were. Theoretically, he had known that two male bodies would have produced this amount of bodily fluid, but when confronted by the reality of the matter-

Harry laughed at the look of disgust on his face, before waving his hand over their bodies, and commanding, _"Scourgify." _The semen and perspiration vanished from their skin, but Artemis decided that a shower was still in order- and Harry might hopefully join him in it.

He glanced at the younger man questioningly. "Latin-based?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "I only know how the English cast their spells, and that seems to be the way with things." Then he looked curiously at Artemis. "You mentioned once before that you aren't a Muggle, but I haven't seen you do any magic. Could I?"

"I don't know how to control it," Artemis admitted, raising an elegant hand and allowing those old familiar sparks to leap about his fingers. There were more of them than he was used to, so it appeared his magical core would grow over time. "It's fairy magic."

Harry's eyes widened briefly, before he shrugged again with an easy smile. "Magic is magic, isn't it?" he said, unknowingly parroting Artemis's own words when he had first put the wizard under the fairy ritual. Artemis was amazed that Harry didn't even question how he'd acquired it. "Try a spell? The first one I ever learnt was _Wingardium Leviosa._"

"A levitation spell?"

He nodded. "Go ahead. Oh, and it's, eh, win-_gaaar-_dium, levi-_o_-sa. I had a lesson when I was eleven. Don't think I'll ever forget it." His smile was a little sad.

Artemis noticed that, but chose not to question it. This time.

"_Wingardium leviosa,_" he intoned, gesturing over a pillow. It shuddered violently, its ends trembling, but it never fully lifted off the bed. Artemis found himself less than satisfied by the effort, but Harry apparently found it worthy enough to award several luxurious kisses.

"That's a grand effort!" he exclaimed. "We tried that spell with a feather, and we were all dreadful for it. It took nearly getting killed by a troll for one of my classmates to get the trick."

"A troll?" Artemis repeated bleakly, garnering a curious glance from Harry.

"You know of them, then?" he asked.

Artemis smiled thinly. "When I was twelve, I kidnapped an elf and held her hostage for a ransom of one metric ton of 24-carat gold. The LEPrecon forces sent a troll to invade the manor– among other things, of course, and Butler managed to dispose of it."

Harry stared at him. "Butler? That one, the one standing outside your door, eavesdropping on us having sex– kill a troll?" Artemis nodded patiently.

"And you," Harry began again, "y-you kidnapped an _elf? _When you were _twelve?"_

Instead of being infuriated, or exasperated, or any one of the usual responses, he just flung his head back and laughed.

"I think luck does exist," Harry said when he managed to calm down, "and that the Fates are much kinder than most give them credit for." He grinned impishly, and kissed Artemis again, long and lapping and loving.

"How else would you have found me?"

They lounged in bed for nearly an hour more, before the next words were spoken.

"What are your plans, then?"

Artemis said nothing for a long moment, so much so that Harry mistook his silence for an unwillingness to divulge.

"Hey, it's okay," he whispered, lightly brushing Artemis's cheek with the back of his knuckles. "It's okay if you don't trust me right off the bat-"

"Harry." His one word stopped the other's babbling cold. He inhaled deeply, and then exhaled. "This issue arose much later than I assumed it originally would."

Harry looked at him, bewildered. "Our sleeping together?"

"No," Artemis blurted out, stunned. His eyes softened as he took in the perfect form of the man lying beside him. "I would never assume, not in these matters-"

Harry pouted. "You are far more attractive than you give yourself credit for," he said, actually leering at him. "All that soft, dark hair that looks even better tousled; nearly perfectly even features; slim body and grace; not to mention the absolutely _stunning _colour of your eyes…"

Artemis's instinctive reaction to the embarrassment triggered was to verbally flay the skin off the offender's back, but he couldn't do that, not to Harry, and doubly not if his response was even half of what Artemis expected it to be once the latter issue was addressed. So he merely retreated to that topic, not quite meeting Harry's eyes.

"It isn't that I don't trust you," he murmured. "It's just that you won't be pleased to hear the answer."

He had Harry's full attention in a second, the sharp honed gaze of a hunter trained on his face. "What is it?" he asked.

Artemis slipped from the bed, and pulled two dressing robes from his closet. He handed one to Harry.

"Follow me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Fair is Fowl, and Fowl is Fair**

Summary: Artemis probed too far and too deep, and awoke a sleeping dragon. What he didn't realise was how much he needed an awakening of his own. Artemis Fowl/Harry Potter crossover. Warnings for slash. Artemis/Harry.

**NOTE: WARNINGS FOR SLASH**

**

* * *

**

To Cen, for being such a trendsetter. Lol.

The ages of the twins and Marilyn have been bumped up from canon.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor the Macbeth quote from which the title is taken

* * *

Chapter Three

He led Harry down to the first basement, neither of them remarking when a bulky form detached itself from the shadows outside his room and followed them at a discrete distance. By right, they should still be in bed, Artemis marvelling at how well someone like Harry fit around and into his life, but there were still things that had to be dealt with, and dealt with at once. Artemis wasn't looking forward to them.

He led them to a room that was warded with a similar passcode as the dungeons, except that the vocal recognition was keyed into the Gnommish word for 'panopticon'.

It was a room filled with nearly a hundred monitors, nearly all of them tapping into the main security feed at the Fowl Manor. This was his own private security centre, where he dissected the comings and goings of enemy and ally, family and foe, alike. Artemis didn't actively track the feeds, too respective of his family's privacy to do so, but he had built a form recognition programme that included not only potential human hostiles, but non-human ones as well.

After the discovery of magic-wielding humans, he had also begun a programme which read magic pulses. Off to the side was a screen that measured seismic waves five hundred feet down throughout the entire Fowl grounds from a probe constructed through more stolen fairy technology. He was not letting another dwarf get the better of him. Thrice.

But what he had brought Harry down to see was a very particular section of monitors, securely sequestered off behind a partition. Harry turned ashen the moment he realised just what exactly these monitors were looking at.

"When I visited your school," Artemis began slowly, "I left behind more than footprints and memories. It is impossible to hide anything from this combination of magic and fairy technology."

They had nearly twenty visuals, mounted on tiny scuttle-pods not much larger than the common spider, constantly roving throughout the blustery Scottish castle. They picked up audio as well as visual, and after a couple of weeks of experimentation, Artemis had all his bugs record conversations with the key words 'Harry Potter'. As it was, he had heard close to a twenty-eight thousand conversations about the man standing beside him in less than six months, all from a school that numbered fewer than three hundred. Little to none of it was complimentary.

"I didn't need your information," he admitted quietly. "I learnt everything I ever needed or wanted to know about the British wizarding society months ago. But I wanted to hear what you thought. I wanted to hear if you thought they were worth it."

"Ho-how long have you-" Harry stammered.

"Ever since I visited Hogwarts." He paused. "Do you want to-"

"No." Harry's answer was immediate. "I don't want to hear it, I don't want to see it, I don't want to have anything more to do with it!"

Artemis stared at him, surprised at the unhinged outburst. But then he noticed how sickly Harry's face gleamed in the low light, and that his hands were violently trembling. Suddenly he realised that no matter how put-together Harry seemed, no matter how easy-going, laid back, or relaxed he appeared, the truth was that he was still healing. And Artemis was abruptly struck by the epiphany that Harry might need him just as much, if not more, than Artemis needed him.

He took Harry's hand and pulled him out of the room, not looking to see if Butler followed. His feet knew automatically where he was going, having travelled the same route even when he was more asleep than awake. Once inside the privacy of his rooms, he ushered Harry into a seat and pressed a waiting cup of tea into his hands. He had to wrap his own fingers about Harry's to stop the shaking in case Harry spilt tea over his lap and scalded himself.

"Talk to me, Harry," he whispered.

The other man bowed his head, leaving Artemis to stare at the thick crown of black he was endowed with. Harry's hair was nothing like he'd ever seen. The colour was so dark that it appeared to eat up any light that hit it.

Finally he looked up, and there was a lost look on his face that tugged at heartstrings Artemis would have sworn were absent this time yesterday. "What do you want me to say, Artemis?" he rasped. "That I resusc- no, rese- _no-_ urgh, take back!" he exclaimed in frustration at the same time Artemis mutedly supplied, "Rescind."

Green eyes met blue-hazel in a rehashing of that moment between them a few hours earlier. "Exactly that," Harry agreed tersely, "_rescind_. Did you really expect me to _rescind_ my decision to stay once I saw that? Did you honestly expect things to change?"

Artemis said nothing, and the other man's lips thinned.

"Fine," he snapped, "at least tell me this. If you had everything you needed to know from those cameras, then why did you even bother to pretend to ask me anything at all?"

"I wanted to hear what you thought," Artemis admitted. "How you felt about the other magicals, if they truly deserved what was coming to them."

Harry's face held no trace of emotion. "And what is coming to them?"

Artemis closed his eyes. "Once it's ready, I swear you'll be the first to know."

"And until then?"

Artemis found himself speechless. What was there left to say?

"I trust you'll let me know what your next step is," Harry said stiffly, before rising to go. The cup of tea slipped from his rigid fingers and shattered on the stone floor. The man paused, as if he was about to magic the mess away, but then he turned and left the room, leaving Artemis cold and alone.

* * *

Artemis had changed yet again, Butler once again concluded, as he alternated watching over the two young men his household now consisted of. While he and Potter had been nothing less than cordial to each other, there was a certain chill in their relations that even Angeline could not help but catch on to. Butler thought it was laughable how everyone immediately assumed it was his principal's fault. But then again, he supposed, having watched the pair's relationship as it rose and ebbed like the tide pulled by the moon, it honestly was mostly his principal's fault.

He had never known Artemis to divulge information as sensitive as the Hogwarts cameras as quickly as he had, especially to one as intimately involved with the situation as Potter was. And while logically, that step could have been interpreted as a mistake, Butler had a feeling Artemis had done that in an effort to bridge the gap between him and Potter, not widen it.

But his plan had, for the first time in many, many years, backfired on him. Potter had been badly shaken when confronted by reminders of his world. Butler only hoped his principal understood that the younger man had been pushing any and every thought of the British wizarding world from his mind, and a forced confrontation like the one Artemis had put him through would only trigger a whole lot of pain and anger before the catharsis of acceptance. Then he paused and thought it through carefully. If that was what Artemis had intended for from the start…

It only made sense, especially since his principal was careful with Potter, never quite revealing how much the other man's coldness hurt him. Butler couldn't imagine what it felt like for his young principal, so used to having his way, and having never to learn patience. He had been born with the sort of brilliance that ran circles in loop-de-loops around patience, even complete with the kind of asinine music they played on merry-go-rounds at the carnival. But somehow Potter was forcing him to understand that there were factors outside even his great all-encompassing equations.

He could only hope for both their sakes that Potter realised just what he was putting both himself and young Master Artemis before it was too late for both of them.

* * *

"Artemis."

It had been nearly two months. That meant Harry had been at the keep for about eight months in total. The man's silence had hurt, although Artemis was determined not to let the other see it. Harry didn't need that guilt-

"I'm sorry."

Artemis inwardly sighed. So much for that plan. Harry had been dashing them all left right and centre without even being aware of it. Artemis could only hope- and here his heart gave a twinge- that he didn't dash his dreams as well. He didn't know when he'd become this sentimental and morose and hated it, but couldn't bring himself to blame the man in front of him.

"It's no fault of yours, Ha- Mr. Potter," he quietly checked himself.

The man watched him with unreadable green eyes, before he shook his head and offered up a wane smile of his own. "I thought I told you to call me 'Harry', Artemis."

"I wasn't sure if you wanted-"

"If you weren't sure you would have called me 'Mr. Potter' right off the bar," he said tartly, taking a step closer. "You were _hoping, _Artemis."

He stayed silent and still, not agreeing or disagreeing with Harry's words.

"It isn't overrated, you know."

Artemis looked at him, slightly confused as to what he meant, although he'd never admit it. "I beg your pardon?"

"Hope," Harry replied, reaching out to take his hand. "It isn't overrated. You shouldn't think the results are never worth it, even when they don't seem like they are."

"Oh?"

Harry didn't answer, but his lips were on his, so Artemis didn't quite fault him for that. It seemed like they would have an 'after', after all.

* * *

He'd originally thought going into this again with a steady head would be more reassuring, that this time, at least, he knew what he was in for, but Harry was even more tender and caring than the last time. The other man seemed to have remembered every sensitive spot of his, both inside and out, and had used it against him to reduce him into a limp mess. His body just didn't know how to react to Harry except to shut down and shiver in anticipation of his next touch.

A mouth took a warm, wet bite out of his shoulder. "You're so tense," Harry murmured into his skin, even as his fingers expertly kneaded the knots out of his flesh. Then those fingers trailed down his shoulders and over his chest, thumbing his hardened nipples before twisting them till the pleasure bled into the pain.

Artemis could only shake his head, not quite able to manage much more than that. Thankfully, Harry seemed to understand, and crooned to him, rocking his hips deeper and making Artemis's loins shudder with feeling. He went lax beneath the younger man, biting his lip to hold his gasps back as he tried to open up his legs and his self to take even more of the man inside of him. Despite how often Harry ran his hands over his skin, Artemis found, absurdly enough, that he could never quite get used to the feeling. In fact, it seemed to intensify every subsequent time.

Artemis bit his lip even harder, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape from his lips, but there was a smirk on Harry's face, that said he knew exactly what the Fowl heir was doing, and nipped him on the collarbone as punishment. He couldn't help the yelp that escaped his lips. Harry smothered his laugh against Artemis's shoulder.

"You shouldn't hide your voice," Harry teased. "It's beautiful."

Artemis bit his tongue and hid his face against the younger man's flesh, grateful for the dim, barely-there light of their bedroom. Harry surged forward again, pushing and pushing and pushing– Artemis moaned wantonly, throwing his head back, and Harry was there to catch his chin and take him in the eye, watching his face as he shuddered and came all over their entwined bodies. They lay there for several moments, recumbing in post-coital bliss, trying to recover their breaths, and, for Artemis, what little of his dignity he had left.

"Will you tell me?" Harry asked, pressing his lips against his cheek, sensually rubbing his five o' clock shadow against Artemis's smooth face. Artemis had to hide a shiver. The younger man honestly was far too good at this, without even trying.

"What you've been planning, I mean. I'm not going to- to sabotage you, or anything, I just- I'd- I'd just like to know, really."

In some corner of his mind, Artemis had hoped Harry would have just forgotten about this altogether, but he supposed Harry wouldn't be Harry if he'd let this go, just like that. He shook his head, groggily, trying to prolong the inevitable for as long as he could. Finally, when he could delay no more, he sighed, and began to speak.

"It's a bomb I engineered, taking the technology from the fairies' DNA canons, as well as their time-stop. It will target only magic-users, and will do no physical harm to them. But once it is detonated, we will be the only two human magic-users left in the United Kingdom. "

There was a pause, and then-

"How do you even have the resources-" Harry cut himself off mid-sentence with a sigh, and a resigned shake of his head. "Never mind. Forget I even asked. I can't believe I forgot I was speaking to _the _Artemis Fowl, the Second," he said, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

Artemis smiled thinly, but did not reply. He was sure Harry was unaware of even a minute fraction of the true extent of the power his fortune, reputation, intellect, and technology wrought. He said nothing on that matter. He was uncertain if Harry was once again stalling, avoiding the true purpose of their conversation. Artemis also left unsaid the use of the two sleeping pills he had left beneath his pillow. He didn't want Harry going noble on him and fake taking the pill, once he understood how important that single pill was to be. No, Harry was much better off with him making the decisions on his behalf.

He closed his eyes, ready to curl into his lover's arms, and fall into the depths of slumber.

"Hand it over," Harry said, palm extended, blunt fingertips just nudging his chestbone.

Artemis's eyes opened cautiously. "I beg your pardon?"

"The pill," Harry explained. "Hand me the pill, please."

Artemis relaxed minutely. "There is no pill."

"The sleeping pill," the man continued, "which is probably either in the bedside drawer, or under the pillow, although knowing you you'd probably have another set secreted away somewhere secret. I sort of wish we were still wearing clothes, as that would give me an excuse to frisk you quite thoroughly while undoubtedly making it a very enjoyable process for us both, but I'd much prefer it if you just hand me that pill, so we could just have sex again without the agenda."

There was no getting out of this one, Artemis realised with a sigh, although if he were truly honest with himself, he didn't quite mind it half as much as he made it seem. He slipped a hand beneath his pillow and produced a single sleeping pill.

"How did you know?" he asked.

Harry plucked it from his palm with triumphant fingers. "Juliet," he said simply.

Artemis's pale face immediately darkened.

"Hush," Harry coaxed, brushing his lips against a cold cheek. "It wasn't really her fault. I, er, _persuaded_ her."

Artemis stabbed Harry through with narrowed eyes. "Did you?"

The other man turned a whiter pall. "You won't tell Butler, will you?"

Artemis was silent for such a long time that Harry had begun shifting uneasily where he stood. "I'm afraid you'll have to do a little _persuasion _of your own on that matter," he finally said, coolly, causing Harry to react nervously to his tone before processing the words. And then lips on his cut off anything else he might have said, and there was a tongue in his mouth, and laughter on his breath. The hand on his knee slid north, skirting the inside of his thigh before the touch ventured somewhere intimate, making him gasp, and then Harry was pressing into him again, and Artemis moaned, disregarding the sharp pain and squelch of evidence from their previous coupling as he pushed up against Harry eagerly, bucking his hips in a bid to get more, more of _him_.

It was so easy, so easy to fall, to believe that this moment belonged just to them, and that a nation full of magical bigots didn't exist, that Harry was avoiding classifying his leaving the magical world as abandonment, that Artemis himself was pathologically inclined to perceive himself as superior to anyone and anything…

The younger man was chuckling quietly into his ear, even as his hands danced down to grip his length and roll his balls.

"I love you," he whispered, and Artemis was lost.

* * *

To tell the truth, Artemis had expected much more resistance on Harry's end. After all, he had struggled so long and so hard with his conscience, just to give into Artemis's own desires. He had to ask one last time, "Are you truly all right with this?"

His mother, having accidentally overheard their conversation, rocked back in shock and surprise. Artemis didn't blame her. He never reconsidered his decisions. And he never reconsidered them for anyone else.

Harry hadn't known the significance of this, and had smiled, at him, absently rubbing the sharp bones in his wrist. Artemis fought against the temptation to fidget, hating the reminder of how thin his frame still was as compared to the younger man.

"I made my decision then, Artemis," Harry had quietly assured him, "and I'm hardly going to go back on it, especially now." Then he had given him the most tender smile Artemis had ever seen directed at him. Unfortunately, it had also turned his insides into mush. And then Harry had drawn him close for a soft kiss, and all thoughts of his mother had vanished from his head, to be replaced by _Harry_.

* * *

"You wanted to know what happened."

The words drifted like dust motes in the near-empty room. They were standing there, in his room, entirely alone. Butler had left them to themselves, or at least with as complete an illusion of being alone as he could manage. In reality, the bodyguard was still standing guard in the antechamber, well within earshot of them. But all the cameras were off, all the bugs wiped. Artemis wouldn't permit any more witnesses to this moment than there already were.

His hand came up automatically to stroke the vivid skin about his lover's neck. Harry leaned into the touch, and Artemis marvelled at his openness with affection, despite knowing how he himself had been so deprived of it since young. Harry was casually handsome, with a smooth, square jaw, and clean, simple lines taut with hard-earned muscle for a body. He had emerald shards for eyes that peered out beneath mussed black bangs, and he was simply the most beautiful man Artemis had ever known. There were still moments where he couldn't believe that such a man would want him the way Harry did.

The listless thoughts almost made him miss the words Harry uttered next. Almost. Artemis froze when Harry's warm, dulcet tones penetrated his inner ear.

"Someone I once considered my best friend did- along with 80% Hydrochloric Acid. She wanted to know if I was ready to go up against you. Apparently you have quite the reputation in the Muggle world, Mr. Fowl, even if no file on you ever mentioned your kidnapping elves and killing trolls."

If Artemis had had any doubts going into this, they were eliminated now. His thin hands clenched against their furious trembling. He rarely felt any emotion of this magnitude, let alone anger, but it was hardly surprising, that if Harry could incite other feelings in him, that he would not incite this particular feeling on his behalf.

"She was a Muggle?" he asked, pleased with how his voice sounded almost cordial.

"Yes," Harry replied cautiously. "Granger was a Muggleborn. Her parents were dentists when she got her Hogwarts letter."

"I am going to destroy her," he said simply, "after I destroy your relatives."

Harry only sighed, and rested their brows together. "Oh, Artemis," was all he murmured, his fingers lovingly tracing the long line of his exposed throat.

Artemis's impressive oak desk, usually stacked with neat folders and brand new equipment, was entirely clear, except for a single detonator. It's red eye blinked innocently back at them every half-second.

"Once the switch is flicked, there can be no going back. Everything's been timed to give us a leeway of ten minutes each way."

"You've told me that at least ten times already, Artemis," Harry said patiently. "I know the drill, surely as well as Butler, if not you."

Despite the kind tone, Artemis somehow felt that he was being patronised, at the very least, or chastised. "I-" Even after the changes Artemis had felt stirring the long-dead organ in his chest, not that much had changed, and not that soon. It was hard for him to admit this sort of weakness, to someone he still, despite whatever he _felt, _he intellectually knew he'd known the younger man less than a year.

"Artemis."

The sound of his name made him raise his head, aided by cool fingers on his chin. "Tell me, Artemis. What it is?"

Artemis gripped his wrist tightly. "You- _please," _he said at last, hating the way the word left his mouth. Fowls prized their dignity above all else (well, maybe except gold), and a Fowl would never beg. But Artemis could not think of anything else to call it.

"Don't be a hero. You don't have to be one, not any longer; not for me, and most certainly not for them. If you love me- please, Harry. _Please. _That pill-"

It would be unimaginably easy for someone of his intelligence to drug the man before him, but Artemis couldn't bring himself to do it. It was a strange thing, he mused, having morals. No, perhaps not morals. Artemis had always had morals, even if they had fluctuated in that grey period before just meeting Harry. It was having someone, that he had to be accountable towards, that was unnerving.

Lips pressed against his, a warm and familiar weight. Harry tugged him closer, nestling his messy head beneath his well-shaved chin, and lining them up hip-to-hip. Fingers combed through his slicked back hair, doing more harm than good, really, as his dark locks tumbled down his pale, wide brow.

"What are you so frightened of, Artemis? Will you tell me?"

Hesitantly, he led Harry to sit on the bed beside him. Even when they were seated, he couldn't quite bring himself to speak for a while yet.

"I want to control you, but I don't want to at the same time. But if I don't, I'm…afraid, that you won't take the pill. And if you don't– I don't want you to leave." The last was said in a dead whisper.

Harry watched him for a long time, before sighing.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to make you this dependant, on anyone, least of all me. Not to say I'm about to do something that would cripple you in that way, none of the sort, honest," he hurried on to add. "I just know- or I get it, from talking to Butler, to Juliet, to your parents, or the twins- that you like your independence. You treasure it like I treasure my freedom, and I can see it sometimes, how you're awkward at handling my being here. Not to say that you're awkward, of course, or uncertain or insecure; Merlin forbid a Fowl be any one of those." There was a touch of a smile on Artemis's lips as he heard this.

"Huzzah!" Harry cheered quietly. "So there is a little humour left in the old bones." Then he smiled and continued, "I like my freedom. I like it very much. For a time I thought I'd just moved from one jail to another, but you taught me, Artemis, that love is both a prison and a fort."

When Artemis heard those words, he felt the most uncanny tingles spread from his chest right to his toes at the mention of _that _word.

"I wouldn't give it up for all the magic in the world. And if that's all you're asking- that I stay, that I keep my magic- you have to know that you're asking a lot less than you could get away with. I mean, honestly, I'd give up a lot more for you, just to show you, if you'd like-"

He was cut off by a wet chuckle. Artemis was laughing softly, a little choked, as if trying to release all the pent-up emotion inside of him.

"You absolute _idiot,"_ he said, and tossed back the pill, watching as Harry did the same, before reaching out for bottle of water. Once he'd taken a swallow to rinse the pill down, he passed it to Harry, again watching him mimic his actions.

Harry screwed the cap back on and placed the bottle off to one side. "Just yours," he teased, before pressing their lips together. But Artemis drew back the moment he felt fingers pull the detonator from his fist. There was an odd smile decorating the wizard's face as he held up the detonator, its lone red eye still blinking innocuously back at them.

"Here's to the fifth of November, revolutions, and all that rot," Harry said, and flipped the switch.

As they stared at each other for the longest time, nothing happened. But Artemis was counting the seconds down in his head.

Even if he had allocated an extra ten minutes for the sleeping pill to take effect, it should knock them out in less than five, and keep them out for the next twelve hours at least. The bombs would go off twenty minutes after that; one each for London, Glasgow, Cardiff, Belfast, and Dublin; it had not gone unnoticed by him that the students attending Hogwarts had spoken with a medley of accents comprising of all four countries that formed the United Kingdom, and the Republic of Ireland. Artemis had left no stone unturned in this venture. And if he just happened to have forgotten to mention this little detail to Harry…he had all the time in the world to convince the younger man otherwise.

A smile stretched his lips at the thought.

Artemis pulled him into the bed alongside him. "It's going to be a good day, tomorrow," he promised the younger man. Harry said nothing, merely rested against his chest with a sigh.

Darkness overtook them soon after, leaving them to each other's arms.

* * *

"A Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley reside in No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. The man, Vernon, works at a drill company Grunnings, while Petunia is a housewife, and Dudley attends a private school called Smeltings. This is apparently his fourth time retaking his last year. There is also a Marge Dursley who lives in Magnolia Drive. She breeds bulldogs that are known for their aggressive behaviour," Butler told his principal as he awoke, just slightly ahead of Potter, trusting that Artemis would be able to process the words even in his half-asleep state.

The bulldogs, in particular, would explain why Potter had shown to be rather adverse to canines when having met the wolfhounds the Fowl family kept on hand for hunting.

Butler needn't have worried about Artemis's state of alertness. A sliver of blue and hazel appeared beneath sweeping black lashes, even as he raised his hand for a familiar electric blue spark to leap from finger to finger. "And the Grangers?" Artemis asked, smiling grimly.

"Drs. Arthur and Margaret Granger. They own a private dentist practice in London proper, and have two daughters: one Hermione Jean Granger, who has no records past primary school, and an Emma Leanne Granger, who is currently in her last year at Oxbridge."

He watched as Artemis leaned over and murmured something unheard into Potter's ear, to which the man responded with an incoherent growl, a pillow blasting across the room, and his rolling over to pin the slimmer man onto the bed. Butler had to hide his amusement at the slightly nonplussed look on his principal's face.

"It is Hermione Jean that we want, then," Artemis muttered, trying to slip out from under Potter's body, but apparently too exhausted to find the strength to do so. Butler didn't offer his assistance, and merely watched as his principal gave up with a groan and slumped back against his pillows. "Although if I feel any worse than I already do this morning, I might just take it out on the rest of the family while I'm at it."

It was perhaps for the best that Potter had gone back to sleep, and that sentiment went unheard.

"Your parents were worried when the two of you missed both dinner and supper," he continued, addressing both of his errant charges, despite the fact that one of them was snoring softly into his principal's shoulder.

Artemis glanced back up at him, mismatched eyes still slightly foggy with the remnants of sleep. With a muffled sigh, he wiped the crust away from his dark lashes. "I trust you dealt with them adequately?"

"Yes," he replied stoically. "I informed them that the two of you were reenacting the finale scene of Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet'. Your mother was quite impressed, and was most enthusiastic about seeing it performed in full."

He had the vindictive pleasure of seeing his usually untouchable principal turn a pale green. It wasn't every day one had a leg up against _the _Artemis Fowl the Second. He watched as Artemis's thin lips thinned even further, although with resignation, not anger, and understanding that he deserved this jab.

"I also trust you didn't harm the twins _too _badly, nor will you be harming Harry?"

Butler allowed himself a single, tiny smirk, one that he noted didn't reassure Artemis in the least. His principal merely sighed with said resignation, although there was a ghost of a smile tracing his lips as well. Harry mumbled something in his sleep, and thoughtlessly pressed his lips into Artemis's mussed locks, the arm about his waist tightening just slightly.

It was a good day.

* * *

Butler gets the last word in (o:


End file.
